


Comfort In Moria

by Mews1945



Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003)
Genre: Gen, The Fellowship of the Ring - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-22
Updated: 2006-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-08 07:01:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mews1945/pseuds/Mews1945
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the attack by the Watcher in the Water, Frodo needs the comfort of his friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfort In Moria

The Watcher in the Water seized Frodo before he knew it, and dragged him by his ankle into the black pool. It thrashed its tentacles about and flung him back and forth until he was all but drowned and his leg nearly wrenched from his body, before someone (he later learned it was Strider) severed the tentacle that had taken him. Released, he fell like a dropped stone, screaming in terror, and was caught by Boromir's powerful arms before he could be dashed to death on the rocks.

Hours later, after they had escaped into the icy cold tunnels of Moria and had been walking for so long that Frodo wondered if Gandalf meant to go on forever, they finally stopped for rest. Boromir and Strider had offered to carry Frodo when they noticed his limp, but he'd answered simply that he could walk very well on his own, thank you, and they had withdrawn. Sam had shaken his head and muttered that he would've done better to be less hard headed. Pippin had said brightly that if Frodo did not wish to be carried, he would accept a ride with whichever of the big Men would accommodate him. Merry had told him sharply to be quiet and act less of a fool.

Now that they had stopped and there was nothing to occupy Frodo's attention, he found that he could not help thinking of the monster and how it had taken him as easily as a cat takes a mouse. And he had been just as helpless as a mouse, his intelligence useless against the terrible strength of the creature.

They had found a small chamber off the corridor through which they had been passing, and Gandalf had allowed them to start a little fire in a corner, away from the door. A draft pulled the smoke up and out of the room through some opening in the roof. It was such a tiny fire it was barely there, but Sam was able to bring out his pot and make tea for them with some of their precious water. Pippin and Merry had appointed themselves cooks for the next meal of dry bread and fruit, and they portioned out the servings with exacting care. Pippin brought the first dish to Frodo and sat beside him where he huddled on a flat chunk of stone, shivering, leaning as near to the fire as he could get, his hands outstretched to the warmth. Pippin sat very close to Frodo and slipped his small, chill hand into Frodo's. Frodo jumped, shocked and frightened by the unexpected touch, but Pippin clung to him and after a moment he settled, his heart still galloping.

"Here," Pippin said softly, setting the bowl on Frodo's lap. He leaned closer and whispered, "I gave you my dried peaches, Frodo. You need them more than I," and then slipped away before Frodo could protest. He stared after his cousin, bemused. Pippin had a healthy tween hobbit's ravenous appetite, but he'd actually given up part of his food for Frodo's comfort.

Soon after, Merry brought his own blanket over and wrapped it about Frodo's shoulders with a quick hug. "There, silly Baggins," he said. "If you will insist upon swimming about with monsters, you are sure to wind up with wet clothing and that will mean a cold, which we cannot afford. Do be more careful next time, cousin." And he leaned and kissed Frodo's cheek before he got up and hurried back to help Pippin serve the others. Frodo watched them, clutching the blanket closely abour him, and his shivering slowly eased.

Sam brought him a cup of tea and Frodo took the cup, holding it gratefully between his cold hands, relishing the heat.

"I found a little sweetgrass growing by the wayside as I passed it, and I picked it to put in the tea, Mr. Frodo," Sam said. "It will sweeten it a bit, and my Da always says sweetgrass is good for the nervous complaint too."

"You think I am suffering a nervous complaint, Sam?" Frodo asked ruefully.

"I'd think it strange if you weren't, Mr. Frodo," Sam replied. "You drink that and eat your dinner and you'll feel better."

Frodo obeyed him, eating and drinking without pleasure. But he noticed, touched, that each member of the Fellowship managed to find an opportunity to come and give him a word of reassurance or a smile and a pat on his back. When they had finished their cold meal and lay down to rest, they did not scatter as they usually did. The other hobbits, of course nested around Frodo, surrounding him with their warmth and their love. But to his surprise, Aragorn lay down beside Merry and then Legolas lay down beside Sam. Gimli settled himself on the floor at their feet, grumbling softly before he rolled himself up in his blanket and shut his eyes. Boromir crouched near Frodo's head and said softly, "Do not fear, little one, I am on watch with Gandalf, and nothing will come nigh you while we yet draw breath."

He rose and went back to join Gandalf on guard near the door, and Frodo felt Aragorn reach his long arm over Merry and pat his shoulder. "We are all here for you, Frodo," he said gently. "Try to sleep."

And, although he had feared that he might never be able to sleep again, Frodo closed his eyes, surrounded by the comfort of his friends and loved ones, and in the vast dark of Moria, he slept in peace.

END


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